


The Last Of Us

by TheBiPenguin



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Last of Us
Genre: Eternal Sterek, M/M, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 06:14:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9059098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBiPenguin/pseuds/TheBiPenguin
Summary: Be warned, there is NOTHING happy about this fic so brace yourself.Inspired by The Last Of Us. (Heavy angst.) Hope you enjoy, all feedback welcome.





	1. Coming home.

Derek stood in the lounge of his family home and looked around in in anguish. The once happy home of the Hale family had been looted and thoroughly destroyed, the TV and furniture gone and the windows smashed. He’d tried the light switch but nothing had happened, apparently the electricity had been shut off.

It had taken him over a month to get back to the house. They’d been out of town at summer camp when it happened. In the middle of the night he and the other boys had been woken in the middle of the night to the screams of the girl’s camp. The sound of it still haunted him as he laid awake at night, he’d barely slept since. They all gotten dressed as quickly as they could and gone to investigate.

That had been their first mistake.

Boyd had gotten bitten first. He’d gone straight for Erica’s room and never come out. Derek didn’t ever want to know what happened, although realistically he already knew.

The girls had torn through them, drooling and snarling as they’d sunk their teeth into any piece of exposed flesh they could reach. They were rabid.

That’s what they’d told themselves as they’d fled the camp in any vehicle they could find the keys to. Rabies. It must be.

Little did they know.

A month it had taken him to get home and the whole world had gone to hell. He mourned for his sisters, he’d never even seen them at the camp, never gotten to say goodbye.

Now he stood in the ruin of their old home, his parents nowhere to be found. He’d hoped that living out in the preserve away from the town they would be safe.

How wrong he’d been.

Now he knelt, too week to stand, on the tattered rug in front of the empty fireplace. He had no idea which way to turn and no energy to do it with even if he had.

Which is why he didn’t hear the footsteps behind him, muffled by his own sobs until the sharp click sounded in his ears. His whole body convulsed as the current ran through his body, taking control of his muscles and leaving him writhing in the dirt on the floor.

Eventually, the pain subsided and he was left flaccid and panting, looking up into the eyes of a wicked looking woman. Even in the dim light he would’ve known that hateful smirk anywhere.

Kate Argent.

The children of the Argents and the Hales had hated each other for years. Chris and Kate were the most sadistic bullies of the school, they’d terrorized the younger kids with open delight, drinking down their misery like soda. The Hales hadn’t stood for that. Not back then, at least.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” she pouted, nudging his fried shoulder with her boot to see if he could move, he couldn’t, not yet. He was defenceless as she drew a wicked looking hunting knife from her belt and crouched over him, her gaze invasive and intimate.

“Don’t worry, pretty boy. I’ll make it quicker for you than it was for mummy and daddy.”

Hate boiled in his veins as the words dawned on him. He screamed at his body to move, to fight back, but, he could barely manage a twitch. She laughed at his attempt, throwing her head back victoriously as she raised the knife above her head.

Said head snapped back with a deafening bang as the shot collided with her forehead, sending her sprawling onto the floor where she was lay silenced.

A new shadow climbed through the window behind him, lithe and slim, dropping onto the floor gracefully as it was followed by another.

“Bitch. I knew they had something to do with it.” The voice was familiar, but only just. The lean frame of Stiles Stilinski tucked a glock into his belt as he came to kneel beside Derek.

“You still alive there, Derek?” All trace of the boy’s once jovial tone was gone. His voice was grim and had a hard edge to it which Derek didn’t recognise.

Stiles hauled him to his feet, holding him steady until the sensation came back to his wobbling legs.

“Yeah. Thanks to you.”

“It’s good to see you, mate.” The other boy Derek recognised as Scott McCall, captain of the school Lacrosse team.  He looked badly tired and had a wicked looking scratch across one high cheek bone. The younger boy waved to him shyly in the darkness. “Didn’t think you’d make it back, if I’m honest.”

“We hoped.” Stiles stepped closer and brushed some of the dirt of Derek’s clothes. He looked down into the younger boy’s eyes, as though he were seeing the real Stiles for the first time, now that his defensive shield of mocking jokes and sarcasm had been stripped away.

“When did you eat last?” Scott broke the moment eventually. “We need to head into town for food.”

“I’ve got nothing.” Derek agreed. “Can I come?”

Stiles released the front of his scruffy leather jacket and laughed as he hopped back up onto the windowsill to leave. “Well, we didn’t spend a bullet on saving your ass for nothing.”

Scott laughed as Stiles vanished from sight. “I think you’ve made his day. Everyone else is gone as far as we can tell…”He paused, his eyes wet in the dim light. “It’s really good to see you again, Derek.”

“Yeah.” He breathed, numbly. It wasn’t what he’d been looking for, but, by the sounds of it they were in no position to be choosy. “You too.”


	2. Stiles, PLEASE!

It took nearly an hour for them to hike down to the edge of town. In the darkness, Derek would barely have known where they were going, but, the other boys seemed to navigate the gloom with practised ease.

“Okay.” Stiles brought them to a halt at the first road they encountered, having avoided all the major routes into what was left of Beacon Hills. It was a small series of access roads leading into the industrial estate. Imposing warehouses stood tall against the starry sky. The sight alone made the hairs on Derek’s arms stand on end.

“Four rows in and two to the right from here are the warehouses the supermarkets used to use.” Stiles pointed a long finger through the gloom at one of the rooftops. It looked a world away, tucked within a labyrinth of dangers. “Too much for us to empty out. Once a week, we go in, grab what we can safely run with and get out before anyone sees us.”

“Isn’t anyone else…” Derek’s adrenaline starved brain fumbled for a better word, but, found none. “Human down there?”

Stiles’ face remained stoic, eyes turning to Scott, who was crouched staring at their target with a scary intensity. “No one we know of. You see a face, you hide and you shut the fuck up. If we’re forced to shoot, the whole town will hear and…well, you know the rest.”

He knew. He knew all too well.

Derek took one last deep breath and set his jaw before breaking the treeline and scurrying after the other boys into the shadow of the closest building, slipping between the high walls down the narrow alleys, eyes set on Scott’s back in front of him, not daring to look anywhere else.

One street in.

Two streets in.

Three streets in.

Four.

Derek collided with Scott just within the shadow at the corner of the fourth warehouse from the road. He dropped to a shivering crouch as he craned to see why Stiles had stopped them.

Stood in the middle of the wide street separating the fourth and fifth row of warehouses stood three twitching figures. Their clothes were torn, their sunken, yellow eyes turned upwards to the stars in dumb wonderment as their mouths hung open, revealing partial sets of decaying teeth.

Derek recoiled as he took them in, their skin hanging bruised and loose from their wasted muscles, large patches of green fungus growing from ears and mouths and eyes. It was the first proper look at one of the infected he’d had since escaping camp.

Zombies.

Derek hated the word, refused to use it until now, even to himself, but, there was no other way to describe the ruined creatures that stood before them.

“What’ve we got?” Stiles hissed over his shoulder as Scott’s hands roamed the invisible ground beneath them.

“Bit of loose paving stone.” He breathed.

“Too heavy.”

Derek ran his own heavily calloused palms over the ground, unsure what exactly they were looking for. “I think this is a glass bottle.” he ventured, barely daring to speak above a whisper.

“Perfect.”

Derek watched in fascination and horror as Stiles took the large green bottle by the neck, raising it over his head and hurling it into the street. It was all he could do not to cry out in shock and despair as the bottle shattered the first floor window of the opposite warehouse, sending the three infected racing inside through the gaping ground floor side door.

The boys wasted no time listening to their tormented squawks as they scuttled from their hiding place, quickly crossing two building along before vanishing again into the narrow alley between.

“That was clever.” He breathed in the darkness. There was just enough starlight for him to see Stiles wink at him in the gloom.

All the ground floor doors and windows of this building looked intact and apparently they weren’t about to change that fact. Derek watched in slight terror as Stiles took hold of one of the long drainpipes running down from the warehouse roof and began to climb up into the moonlight, exposed for anyone to see for what felt like a death defying length of time until he reached the second floor and shimmied into the open window alongside, signalling Scott to follow.

Heavier built than Stiles, the pipe shook worryingly loudly as Scott’s thick muscles worked to haul himself up to join his friend, leaving only Derek to follow.

He did, with no small amount of second guessing as he made himself feel almost naked under the moons wide eye, abandoning the shadows of the alleyway and heaving himself in to land heavily on the warehouse’s second floor landing with a thump.

They caught their breath for a moment, barely daring to listen for sounds that they’d been detected. The night seemed deafeningly quiet outside the preserve. Once the harsh rattle of their laboured breaths returned to almost normal, Stiles lead them down some alarmingly creaky stairs towards the heart of the warehouse’s interior.

They reached the ground floor and came to an abrupt halt. The other boys white teeth beamed at him in the meagre light.   
“You fancy pasta or rice this week?” Scott’s face was a picture of relief, Derek took a moment to huff a quiet laugh and share the sensation before deciding on rice.

Stiles took them through the series of shelves towards where Derek assumed they knew to be where rice was kept when a harsh squawk echoed through the empty corridors.

“Shit.” Scott’s eyes went wide as he spun to face Derek, clearly thinking the noise came from behind them. Stiles grabbed his shoulder, pulling a quizzical face and gesturing off to the left. The echo of the empty building meant Derek had no damn idea where the noise had come from and, apparently, neither did they.

“How the fuck did it get in here?” Stiles’ voice was a low, venomous hiss,. “What fucker is stupid enough to use a ground floor entrance and let them in?!”

Both the boys shrugged at him helplessly. “I didn’t even think anyone else was alive.” Derek wanted to be pleased for them, whoever they were, but just didn’t have the heart in that dark moment.

They strained to hear another sign, a footstep, anything. They seemed to be alone in the darkness once more.

“Let’s just take these and get out of here.” Scott grabbed a bag of what looked like new potatoes off the nearest shelf. Stiles rummaged on the one below as Derek grabbed a couple of tins he couldn’t read the labels of.

He stuffed the tins in his loose pockets and turned back to his friends, they’d moved a few steps further away in the shadows of the aisle, but, he could still see their outlines, silently head-counting. One, two, all three of them.

Three?!

“Scott!” The yell tore itself from his hammering chest before he could think better of it, just as the shot fired and the third silhouette let out an inhuman howl of rage. It charged them with its wildly veering gait and they fled, dropping their findings and running blinding through the dark, turning corner after corner in the blind hope of shaking it off.

Eventually, the footsteps behind them died out, the creature left behind by the bullet Stiles had buried in its’ thigh. They came to a stop under a luminous fire exit sign to catch their breath.

“Shit.” Derek rarely swore, but, Jesus fucking Christ!

“Stiles.” Scott’s voice was barely a whimper as he held his arm up between them, revealing a line of bloody bite marks along his wrist.

“Scottie.” Scott was already pulling the gun from his belt and shoving it into Derek’s shaking hands, tears streaming down his smooth cheeks as he turned to face his best friend.

“Do it.”

Stiles shook his head so violently Derek thought he might get whiplash.

“We promised we would. I won’t be one of them Stiles, I won’t. Shoot me and as soon as you have, run!”

Stiles looked as though he might vomit, his face drained of all colour. “I can’t.”

“Stiles PLEASE!” Scott’s voice broke in a high pitched sob as he clung to his front of his friend’s shirt.

“Stiles.” Derek didn’t recognise his own voice, only the same grim tone of purpose he’d heard in Stiles’ words when they’d been reunited. “Turn around and get ready to run.”

The three boys drew each other close in a tight embrace, the last they’d share together, before a shaking Stiles split from them and turned, unlatching the fire escape and slipping outside into the night.

“Thank you.” Scott squeezed Derek’s forearm so tightly it hurt. He could only give a shaky nod in respond as the younger boy stepped away from him, turning his back and lifting his chin in one final act of bravery.


	3. Baby, hold me closer.

When they at last came to a panting stop they could barely breathe. They pried one of the wooden boards off the window of a large building neither of them bothered to identify and slipped inside.

It was surprisingly light, part of the roof had collapsed and the windows had been smashed but not boarded up at the back, it wasn’t going to provide them with any protection. Not for long.

It looked to be a shop of some sort, all the contents long since stolen and the shelves laid bare. They leaned against one of the tills to catch their breath.

“We can’t run forever.” Derek’s eyes burned as he faced the younger boy. Boy. That was a joke. Stiles stood before him now more a man than anyone Derek had ever known. He was fierce and brave and beautiful, even now, with his scruffy teenage stubble grown out and blood on his muddied clothes.

He didn’t want to think about what would eventually happen to him when those things caught up with them, which they would. It was more than Derek could bear.

“We could…” He tapped the gun tucked into his belt. “We could make it easier for ourselves.”

Stiles looked at him as though he’d just grown another head, his eyes wide.

“No.” He snarled, taking the guns from their belts and laying them on the top of the till. “If we’re gonna die, it’s not gonna be because we killed ourselves.” He rummaged under the counter, a shrill whirring filling the air from the shops speakers. It was scarily loud in the silence and Derek’s heart began to race.

“I don’t know about you. But, I wanna go out with a bang.” Stiles took Derek’s wrist and pulled him up so they were stood on the counter as a familiar tune took form in the ruined silence.

**_So baby hold me closer,_ **

**_In the backseat of your rover,_ **

**_That I know you can’t afford,_ **

**_Like that tattoo on your shoulder,_ **

Derek pulled Stiles’ slight frame into his arms, rocking him gently as they swayed to the music. Murmuring the words in each other’s ears.

“I love you, Der. I’ve always loved you. And I never told you. I thought we’d have so much longer.”

Derek choked up a little before he could speak, burying his face in the warm scent of Stiles’ hair, kissing the top of his head gently. “I love you too.”

**_Pull the sheets right off the corner,_ **

**_Off the mattress that you stole,_ **

**_From your room-mate back in Boulder,_ **

**_We ain’t never getting older._ **

The music played on, filling their ears and drowning out the whole wide wicked world around them, even as it doomed them.

They didn’t hear a thing, didn’t want to look.

They never saw them coming.

Not until the moment they were ripped from each others arms, their cries piercing the screaming night air as rotting teeth tore into carefully sculpted muscles and through soft, pale skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMFG I AM SO SORRY! 
> 
> I just love the last of us. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed, please leave feedback xx


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